


Hot Dog Eating Contest - Sign Up Here!

by Maynara



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stomach Ache, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29316951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maynara/pseuds/Maynara
Summary: Dean wants to participate in a hot dog eating contest, but Sam doesn't think it's a good idea. Sam is right.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 147





	Hot Dog Eating Contest - Sign Up Here!

“This is a **terrible** idea and, deep down, you know I’m right,” Sam sighed, as he stood uncomfortably next to his brother. Behind them in line was a large man with a gut that probably weighted more than Dean himself, and in the front of the queue stood a woman who was at least 6’5. Next to his competition, Dean looked like a little kid.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean said. He grinned like a child on Christmas morning. “Free food. What’s not to like?”

Sam huffed out a breath. He had known there was a reason why Dean insisted on dragging him to this fair, and the reason was written on a huge banner right in front of them.

_Hot Dog Eating Contest – Sign Up Here!_

Just the thought of wolfing down dozens of cheap sausages and dry buns made Sam want to gag. He couldn’t understand why his brother was so hyped about this.

“You’re not going to win this, man,” Sam reasoned again. Dean could put away more than the average person, but there was no way he’d be able to eat more than that dude behind them. “I’m not going to find a spell to bring you back to life if your stomach explodes,” he warned his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Quit being so dramatic, Sammy,” he said, just as they reached the front of the line. Sam watched Dean add his name to the list and pursed his lips. This wasn’t going to end well.

Half an hour later, Sam stood off to the side of the makeshift stage. With his arms crossed over his chest, he eyed the six people that were brave—or _stupid_ —enough to enter the eating contest.

To Sam’s surprise, Dean wasn’t the smallest participant. A man, not more than 5’5 and 120 pounds, sat at the table as well. It was obvious that he didn’t stand a chance and Sam actually felt bad for him.

Sam wrinkled his nose when the hot dogs were brought out. Everyone got a large plate with fifty hot dogs and a pitcher of water. Sam felt ill just looking at the food.

A guy who stood in the middle of the stage blew into a whistled and all six participants instantly started to dig in. At first, they were all pretty evenly matched and even the small guy was able to keep up.

Six hot dogs in, and one of the eaters accidentally choked on a bite. He coughed and gagged, and eventually gave up. He left the stage still coughing and with a bright red face.

The next to throw in the towel was a woman. She managed fifteen pieces before she pushed back her plate and held up her hands in surrender.

The remaining four contestants kept eating. Sam looked at his brother. Everyone was about twenty hot dogs in and starting to slow down a little. Dean was still eating steadily, but Sam could tell that he was getting full.

Not long after that, the short man gave up. Not a minute passed before the tall woman they saw earlier suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth and ran off the stage. Sam winced.

That only left Dean and _Gigantic Gut_ , as Sam had nicknamed him. Even though he thought the entire purpose of an eating contest was stupid, Sam found himself rooting for his brother. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

Thirty hot dogs in and Dean suddenly froze mid-chew. Sam bit his lip when he saw the grimace of pain on his face. Dean’s right hand slipped under the table for a moment. He fumbled around with something—probably his belt and zipper—and a second later, he seemed to relax. His hand reappeared and he kept eating.

When they both had eaten thirty-five hot dogs, Dean slowed down considerably. Unable to look away, Sam kept staring at him. It was obvious that he was struggling. He was chewing almost mechanically and his face was constantly pinched.

Somehow, he managed to make it to forty-two without puking. Sam was impressed and also slightly worried.

Dean had just shoved the forty-third hot dog in his mouth, when the whistle trilled again. Confused, Sam looked over to his brother’s opponent. He’d been so focused on Dean, he had failed to see that _Gigantic Gut_ had polished off all fifty hot dogs.

People cheered and applauded when the man heaved himself to his feet to accept his price. Sam didn’t stick around to see what that price was. He made his way to the right side of the stage, where his brother was slowly climbing down the stairs. Up close, he looked even more miserable than from afar. His face was pale and pinched, and he looked a little sick. His dark shirt was stretched tight over his bulging stomach and his jeans were unbuttoned. He looked ready to burst.

“Well, was it worth it?” Sam asked, unable to keep an amused grin off his face.

Instead of a verbal reply, Dean let out the loudest belch Sam had ever heard.

“Dude, _gross_ ,” Sam grimaced.

Dean groaned and rubbed his full belly. He hiccupped and then burped again. “I need to lay down…” he moaned.

The _“I told you so!”_ was on the tip of Sam’s tongue, but he decided to save it for later. He wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders and steered him to the Impala. Thankfully, their motel was only two miles down the road.

When they reached the car, Dean placed both arms on the roof and hung his head. He groaned again.

Sam patted him on the back. “If you’re going to puke, do it now.”

Dean shrugged his hand off. “I’m not gonna puke…” he growled, then hiccupped again. He put a hand on his stomach and took some deep breaths, but even that looked like it hurt.

Taking pity on his brother, Sam leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Come on, let’s get you back to the room so you can rest.”

With some grunts and groans, Sam managed to get him into the car. “You were right, Sammy,” Dean whined. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Sam chuckled. “Glad you learned your lesson.”

Back at the motel, Sam helped his brother out of his clothes. Being left in only his boxers, Dean crawled into bed. He curled up on his side with a grimace. “My stomach hurts.”

Sam gave his brother’s swollen belly a pointed look. “Are you honestly surprised about that?”

His stomach gurgled loudly and Dean flinched. He belched again and shifted around to find a comfortable position.

Sam’s original plan had been to do some research while his brother rested, but when the gurgling and rumbling in Dean’s gut grew louder and more violent, he gave up.

“It doesn’t sound too good in there,” he pointed out as he sat down on his brother’s side of the bed. Reaching out, he brushed the back of his hand over Dean’s full belly. Another sick sounding gurgle made Dean arch up into the touch.

Taking this as an invite to keep touching, Sam splayed his large hand over his brother’s tummy. He rubbed gently.

“I’m gonna burst,” Dean moaned.

Sam smiled. “No, you’re not,” he said and gave the stomach a tender pat. He could only imagine what having forty-three hot dogs felt like stuffed into one stomach, but based on the unhappy noises his brother’s belly was making, it couldn’t feel good. Dean’s tummy was hard as a rock.

“Don’t stop, Sammy…” Dean muttered.

Smiling, Sam toed off his boots and climbed in bed with his brother. He wrapped himself around Dean from behind and quickly put his hand back on his belly. “Just relax,” he whispered in his ear.

Dean hummed and melted against Sam’s chest. He tucked his own hands under his head, allowing Sam full access to his aching stomach.

For a few minutes, the only noise in the room was the sound of Dean’s distressed tummy, as it struggled to digest. Sam helped move things along by rubbing and massaging the taut stomach.

A couple of moments later, Dean started to snore. He had succumbed to the food coma Sam had known was coming.

With a smile, Sam nuzzled his neck. His brother might be an irresponsible glutton with absolutely no sense of self-preservation, but he wouldn’t change him for the world. In fact, there was nothing Sam would rather be doing right now than sooth Dean’s aching tummy with rubs and kisses.


End file.
